


Living With Sherlock

by Alicebekett



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 08:27:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11824878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alicebekett/pseuds/Alicebekett
Summary: Living with Sherlock is never easy, especially once John starts to learn more about his eccentric flatmate. Habits, past experiences, and other things that John could never imagine come to light. Could be seen as a companion to Sherlock's Trick.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is another old story I'm transferring over here.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.
> 
> Headcanon:  
> John, as an army an, has quite the vocabulary. Sherlock never swears and 221B has gained a 'Swear Jar' just for John. John retaliated with a 'Rude Jar' that Sherlock must add to every time he makes a rude deduction. When the jars fill, they take Mrs. Hudson out to dinner.

This is the first in a series of oneshots/drabbles/etc. I am willing to take requests, so if you have suggestions let me know. Most of these I have found on Pinterest, so if you've made them don't be upset, I'm just writing out your scenario. 

(LINE BREAK)

Lestrade tapped his foot against the floor, “What is taking you so long?”

“He's finding one of his jumpers,” Sherlock replied snidely, crossing his arms over his chest, “We do not have all night, John!”

A muffled thump was heard, and John came stumbling into the main room of the flat rubbing his head. Lestrade felt his eyebrows rise as he heard the amount of swearing coming from the ex-soldier. John pulled on a shoe, and tugged the jumper in his arms over his head. He straightened, cursed again, and dug a handful of change out of his pocket. 

Sherlock smirked, and pointed to one of two clear jars that was resting on the mantle above the fireplace. John rolled his eyes, opened the jar, and emptied the handful of change in the half full jar. Lestrade looked at Sherlock, then at John, “What was that?”

John looked up, and finally noticed, “Sorry, I was in the middle of having a shower when you called.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “It's his swear jar. John has quite the vocabulary.”

“You have one too!” John piped up from behind the detective and consulting detective as they made their way down the stairs. 

Lestrade felt his eyebrows disappear into his hairline, “The great Sherlock Holmes has a swear jar?”

Sherlock cast an annoyed look over his shoulder at John, who smirked, “It is not a swear jar, it is-”

“It's a rude jar. Every time he makes a nasty deduction about someone, he needs to put a pound into the jar.”

“What happens when they're full?”

John smiled, “We take Mrs. Hudson out for dinner.”

 

(LINE BREAK)  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.

Headcanon:  
John, as an army an, has quite the vocabulary. Sherlock never swears and 221B has gained a 'Swear Jar' just for John. John retaliated with a 'Rude Jar' that Sherlock must add to every time he makes a rude deduction. When the jars fill, they take Mrs. Hudson out to dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Sherlock loses himself in his mind palace when he's in the bath.

John swallowed the last of his tea, and closed his newspaper. He glanced at his watch, and sighed in annoyance. What is taking Sherlock so long? John sighed, set down his cup and paper, stood up, and went toward the bathroom.

He stepped in a puddle of warm water, soaking through his socks. John hurried to the bathroom door, “Sherlock?” He called, and tested the door; it was locked. John's worry rose, and he pounded on the door, “Sherlock!”

Nothing. John backed away from the door, and rammed it with his right foot. The door flew open with an almighty crack and John fell, having lost his footing on the wet floor. 

John looked up to see Sherlock jolt, as if he had fallen asleep. Sherlock leaned in front of him, and turned off the taps, and pulled the plug, “I apologize, John. I was in my Mind Palace.”

John sighed, and picked himself off the floor, looking at his wet clothes in disgust, “This is the third time I've had to break the door down. Mrs. Hudson will not be pleased.”

Sherlock shrugged, “She is never pleased with us.”

John rolled his eyes, “Just, get dressed. I'm getting changed, we have to meet Lestrade soon.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and watched as John left, turning down to go to his room to change.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Public transport is hard.

Sherlock raised his hand to call a taxi, but John shook his head, “We're late. The quickest way now would be to take the tube.”

Sherlock opened his mouth to argue, but shut it when John glared at him. Sherlock knew he was in trouble, because John had made him clean the water all over their flat after his bath fiasco. Sherlock checked a sigh, and followed John to the nearest entrance to the underground.

“I find no reason on why we should go,” He stated, allowing John to pay for tickets.

John rolled his eyes, “It's because of us that the police caught that killer. This is Lestrade's way of thanking us.”

“Anderson and Donovan will be there,” John could tell that Sherlock was avoiding to go to this dinner.

“Sherlock, it'll be fine. Lestrade will tell them to behave. I trust you won't start anything?” John glared at Sherlock.

Sherlock smiled, “I won't start if they won't.”

“Good. C'mon, we need to catch this one.”

Sherlock deftly followed John into the train car. John made sure to stay near his friend, as he had never seen Sherlock use the tube before. John watched as Sherlock tensed up, and his eyes flew to everyone that was in his line of sight.

Sherlock felt himself make deduction after deduction about various people, making him lose track of where he was, and which stop he was at. It wasn't until John tugged at his sleeve that he realized he had almost missed the stop. He shook himself away from his deductions, and followed John out of the station, and onto the street.

John stopped, “There's a reason you don't ride the tube, isn't there?”

Sherlock nodded, “I kept missing my stops. Ended up far from the places I wanted to be.”

John nodded, “Why?”

“Too many people, John. You saw what happened once the car started filling up. Sensory overload.”

John nodded, and started to walk again, Sherlock quickly falling into stride, “Where is it that Lestrade is meeting us?”

“Somewhere you haven't been before,” John smirked.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock reluctantly followed John into the bustling restaurant, and swept his eyes across the room. He spotted Anderson, Donovan, and Lestrade and pointed John in the right direction. Sherlock followed, and sat beside the doctor, slipping off his coat and hanging it on the back of his chair.

Donovan sneered, “Decided to come, did you freak?”

Sherlock glanced over Donovan's attire, and smirked, “I see you've come over from Anderson's again. Did you scrub his floor?”

Both Anderson and Donovan went bright red, and Anderson raised his hand to argue. Lestrade cleared his throat, and the two settled down begrudgingly. John glared at Sherlock, who simply ignored his friend. 

A waiter appeared out of nowhere, “Now that everyone is here, would you like to order drinks?”

Everyone nodded. Lestrade ordered a beer, Donovan and Anderson ordered a bottle of wine, and John ordered coffee. The group stared at Sherlock expectantly. He rolled his eyes, “Water.”

The waiter left, and everyone started examining the menus. John raised his eyebrows at the variety of food. Sherlock was glancing over at his menu, but swiftly shut it. John raised an eyebrow at the consulting detective, who simply steepled his fingers and stared ahead.

The waiter soon returned with the drinks, and pulled out a notepad and a pen, “Are you ready to order?”

Everyone, except Sherlock, glanced at each other, and nodded. 

Donovan smiled, “I'll have the spaghetti.”

The waiter nodded, scribbling. Anderson shut his menu, “I'll have the fish and chips.”

The waiter nodded again, still scribbling on the pad. Lestrade took one final look at the menu, and nodded, “I'll have the roast beef.”

“Mashed, baked, or chips?””

“Mashed.”

“Gravy?”

“Please.”

The waiter looked at John, “And for you, sir?”

“Um,” John glanced over the menu, turning it over, “I'll just have the meatloaf. With a baked potato.”

The waiter looked at Sherlock, who glared at him, “Nothing for me.”

“You've got to eat sometime, Sherlock,” Lestrade grated.

“Even you need to eat, freak,” Donovan muttered.

John cast Sherlock a disapproving glare, “Sherlock.”

“Fine,” Sherlock made a flippant gesture to John, “I'll have what he's having.”

The waiter's eyebrow raised, but he nodded, jotting down Sherlock's order, “I'll be back when your orders are complete.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and continued staring off into the distance, allowing the idle chatter of the others wash over him, allowing him to ignore the other patrons. It took some minutes for their orders to be completed, but they all arrived at the same time. 

Sherlock glanced at his meal, and grimaced in distaste. As John, Anderson, Lestrade, and Donovan began to eat. 

John bit his lip, keeping an eye on Sherlock. He remembered what Mycroft had told him once, “There's a reason he doesn't eat much. His mind over deduces everything, especially with things he's not familiar with. Why do you think he generally goes to restaurants he knows?”

Sherlock was staring at his foods, eyes rapidly moving over his plate. He looked over to the waiter, eyes examining the entirety of the man who served them. Sherlock then looked around the restaurant, taking in his surroundings.

John gently nudged Sherlock's leg, then glanced at the detective's plate. Sherlock got the hint, and choked some of the food down, but spent most of the meal fiddling with what he had. 

If anyone thought it was odd, no one commented, much to John's relief. Sherlock hadn't finished half of what was on his plate before setting his fork down, and sipping his water. John checked a sigh, and made a mental note to make Sherlock something when they made it back to the flat. 

The meal finished in mostly silence, and the group split the bill accordingly. Donovan was staring at Sherlock's mostly untouched plate, one eyebrow raised slightly in thought. 

Then, the recipt came, and they stood to leave. Donovan was still lost in thought, and once again, Sherlock's eyes were flicking from one person to another, almost looking like Sherlock was going to make himself dizzy in the process. 

"C'mon, Sherlock," John murmured, he turned to the others, "Thank you. Have a good night.'

Lestrade smiled, and Anderson ignored him. Donovan nodded in response, before linking her arm through Anderson's. The group left the restaurant, going in different directions once they hit the street.


End file.
